


once upon a december

by thisbeautifuldelirium



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, M/M, Slow Burn, Yuri is a fairy, aka another good ol' fairy au, otabek is a prince
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-05
Updated: 2017-01-16
Packaged: 2018-09-14 23:00:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,256
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9209138
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thisbeautifuldelirium/pseuds/thisbeautifuldelirium
Summary: Otabek had seen a pyre before. They were commonly used in Küyik in order to cremate the bodies of nobles who had passed away, and Otabek almost shuddered as the memory of a humid summer day, made hotter by fire, flashed through his mind. The image of his father’s peaceful face as he lay upon a pile of wood was seared into his mind. So yes, Otabek had seen a pyre before. But never used like this.or: yuri is a fairy who goes to work in a kingdom where fairies are considered the devil's creatures; otabek is prince of this kingdom.





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks to my angel betas sam & @megurineno i love u both more than the world

It was the autumn of his thirteenth year when Otabek Altin realized that he was—how should he put this— _ less than pleased _ with the world he lived in. It’s not that he’d endured a bad childhood. Quite the opposite, actually. His younger days were filled with seemingly endless warmth. His mother loved him, his peers adored him, and he never took it for granted, always doing his best to return their affections. But Otabek felt uncomfortable, and he could never put his finger on why, so he learned to ignore it. He couldn’t focus on being uncomfortable when he was so busy, anyway—not that he minded it. He didn’t mind the intense studying or the rigorous sword training; he knew it was to his benefit, and was his responsibility. His endurance and grace under pressure rapidly became his most prominent trait.

(At seven years old, after his very first day training, he came home, sore and in tears. 

“You might need to use this one day, little star,” insisted his mother. He hadn’t complained since.)

And so Otabek learned the names of every kingdom, and memorized the titles of every lord, and mastered the footwork that came with combat, never protesting.

Yet still, sometimes his hands shook at dinner, and the jousting tournaments held wouldn’t capture his attention like they caught those around him. The lords would be completely absorbed, and they never noticed him picking at the loose strings on the bottom of his shirt or chewing his cuticles.

It was the morning after his thirteenth birthday that Otabek’s discomfort was pushed to the forefront of his thoughts and he finally realized  _ why _ . 

He woke up cold, his blankets hanging off the side of the bed and his mother shaking him gently. The only light in the room flickered from a candle she was holding.

“Wake up, little star.” Her tone was soft and even, but her eyes were like steel. “It’s time for you to learn how we handle the dangers of this world.”

“Mama? What time is it?”

“Midnight. Put your shoes on and come with me.”

Otabek stood up and slid his shoes on, his mother waiting by the door.

“Quickly, Otabek. They won’t wait forever.” She slipped into the dark hallway, Otabek following closely.

She led him outside, and he immediately wished that he had grabbed a heavier cloak.

“Mama, where are we going?” Otabek asked once he realized they were headed toward the woods.

He received only silence in reply.

After what Otabek knew had only been a few minutes, although his frozen limbs made it seem like hours, they stopped in front of a wall of thick brush. His mother turned to face him. Otabek had grown a foot in the last year and they were almost the same height now. 

“Little star.” Her gentle tone had returned. “I kept this from you when you were younger to protect you, but it’s past time that you know what happens to the fairies that cross our borders.”

Oh. The fairies. 

In Küyik, fairies were despised—and for good reason. _Äzäzil,_ his mother called them. Demon. Fairies were the object of every child’s nightmares and every adult’s anxieties. “Don’t go into the forest alone or you may be cursed by a fairy,” fathers told their daughters. “If you forget to lock your doors the fairies will take your gold and your children,” was the advice given to every citizen. Each farmer had a vicious dog, afraid that fairies were going to damage their crops.

The only problem was that no one had ever seen a fairy up close. Those who set out to find their fantastical city never returned. The fairies existed only in legend, only in stories told by those passing through the woods, only in the word of the queen. Yet they were the reason the kingdom lived in fear and hatred. 

That wasn’t to say fairies didn’t exist. Just like every other person in the realm, Otabek believed wholeheartedly that they did. He just wished he could see one, to be one of the adventurers who sometimes entertained at the castle with endless stories of witnessing fairies’ destruction. 

“Otabek.” His mother was beginning to push forward through the brush. 

Otabek shivered and pulled his cloak more tightly around his shoulders, stepping forward after her.

They found themselves in a small clearing. His mother strode forward confidently, despite the lack of light from the sky. The stars were covered by clouds, and wind blew in strong gusts around them, knocking loose the last of the autumn leaves.

Fire comes into sight as they walk forward. Two dark figures surround it, one holding a torch. As they approached, Otabek could just make out a large shape next to them, and he slowed.

“What is this?” He asked in a hushed voice.

“Come, little star. ” She replied without looking back at him, and he matched his pace to hers.

“Finally.” One of the dark figures spoke, and Otabek turned to look at him, but his face was hooded. “You brought Otabek, I see.”

“Yes,” his mother answered coldly. “I decided it was time for him to know of what everyone else is already aware.”

Otabek almost spoke, but held his tongue.  _ What was everyone aware of? _

“Let’s get this over with, then.” The second figure spoke. They turned toward the large shape, the torch illuminating it, and suddenly Otabek understood.

Otabek had seen a pyre before. They were commonly used in Küyik in order to cremate the bodies of nobles who had passed away, and Otabek almost shuddered as the memory of a humid summer day, made hotter by fire, flashed through his mind. The image of his father’s peaceful face as he lay upon a pile of wood was seared into his mind. So yes, Otabek had seen a pyre before. But never used like this.

Otabek met the piercing blue eyes of the person who lay on the pyre before him. His filthy dark hair was sticking in every direction, and the rags he was wearing were covered in dirt and blood. He was gagged, but didn’t seem to be struggling against his bonds. Maybe he knew it wouldn’t do any good. 

Otabek’s hands clenched underneath his coat as he took in the sight before him, never breaking eye contact. He couldn’t if he wanted to. The torment of the situation prohibited him from looking away. 

_ Please, _ the person’s eyes begged.  _ Please, help me. _

But then Otabek tore his eyes away, because he noticed what was glittering behind the man.

No, hold on, not a man.

This was a fairy.

Otabek’s breath seemed to suddenly fly from his lungs, because on the fairy’s back were a pair of sheer wings, gleaming blue and green and purple all at once in the firelight. 

Otabek’s eyes widened. This couldn’t be what everyone else knew. How could he not know? How often did this happen? More importantly, if this happened in the dead of night in the woods, how could everyone  _ else _ know? 

“Would you like to do the honors, Your Majesty?” The man with the torch asked, and Otabek whipped his head around to look at him. 

“Otabek, this fairy was caught on the edge of the forest, presumably heading toward a farm to destroy the crops.” The Queen took the torch with a glint in her eye. “Perhaps you would like to do it.”

Otabek’s head was spinning and he couldn’t feel his feet, his nails digging into his palms as he tried to convince himself that this was a dream.

“Me?” He fought to keep his voice steady.

“As the crown prince, one day it will be your responsibility to do this.” His mother replied with a dry smile.

Otabek took his arms from under his cloak and reached forward. 

He could do this. It was his responsibility. He could do this. He could do this. He could—He looked at his hands. They were shaking. 

He couldn’t do this.

What was that advice they always gave you for if you saw a fairy? 

Oh, yeah.

Run.

So Otabek ran, ignoring the shouts of the queen and mysterious men behind him. He ran, looking back just once, only to see the orange glow of a growing fire behind him. He ran and he ran, deeper into the woods, perhaps deeper than any child in the kingdom had gone before, ignoring his quickly numbing fingers and toes. He’d always had good stamina, but his lungs were starting to burn in the icy conditions. He ran until his legs and face were completely numb from the raw cold. Every breath burned more with every step he took, and eventually he collapsed onto the forest floor.

He looked down to see that his ankles were scraped from the spiky undergrowth of the forest. He hugged his knees to his chest and pulled his cloak around him, hoping that it would be enough to keep him warm until morning. If it wasn’t—Did he really want to go back after seeing that? Did he want to live in a place where the punishment for existing was execution? After all, the fairies couldn’t be that bad.

Otabek had heard of fairy sympathizers. He knew that these groups met in secret, and that they were convinced that fairies, if they even existed, just wanted to live in peace.

The tales of these groups never lasted. A rumor or two, and then within a month, there was no trace of them. No one thought about it again. But now Otabek was wondering: would he be punished just because he refused to set a fairy on fire, or would his mother be more forgiving than that? Would she understand?

Otabek didn’t feel so cold anymore. Either his cloak was warming him up, or his body was so numb with cold that he couldn’t tell the difference anymore. He hoped it was the former. His thoughts began to feel slow and heavy. He closed his eyes, willing himself to stop worrying, to instead deal with it when the sun rises, and he sighed.

He didn’t remember falling asleep. 

Suddenly he awoke to warm, gentle palms pressed to his shoulders, but when he opened his eyes it was still dark, the touch withdrawn. No, there was no one there. 

He shut his eyes once again, but a bright, warm light shone red through his eyelids. He opened them slightly, and tried to distinguish the small, lithe shape in front him. A flash of green. Golden hair. Humanoid. The shape was touching his cheek softly. 

“Go back to sleep, Otabek.” The voice was like bells. There was a soft humming from above him, and his eyes fluttered shut. He felt like he was floating.

“When you wake up, you’ll be safe.” The voice said softly, and a hand stroked his hair.

Otabek leaned his head into the person’s hand as acknowledgement, and he opened his eyes again. The only thing he saw was the blonde figure above him, and snow falling quietly from the dark sky, painting them with flecks of white. 

“Shhh...,” the boy murmured, and Otabek’s eyes slid shut, finally giving into his exhaustion. The last thing he felt was the boy’s warm fingers on his back as wind rushed around him and snow touched his face.

It was the first snowfall of the year.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello so this is the prologue to a multi chapter fic that i'm planning to write; i was just curious how this first bit would be received- keep in mind that this is only the prologue, so the main part of the fic (starting in the next chapter), otabek will be 18 & u can base the other characters' ages around that  
> anyway i hope u all are as excited for this as i am!!! <3


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks to my brilliant beta @megurineno & her invaluable advice honestly idk what i'd do without her and i love her lots

That night became a distant memory, and Otabek wondered if he had dreamt it. Not the part with the fire—it burned too clearly in his mind and heart for it to have been his imagination—but the warm light and the striking green eyes. There was no way that it could have been real. Especially since the morning afterward, he had woken up on the edge of the woods by the castle, his cloak wrapped around him tightly. He had walked back to the castle half asleep and shivering, and his mother took him into her arms without a word. They hadn’t mentioned it again, but Otabek never forgot. He knew The Queen hadn’t either.

If Otabek had been dedicated to his royal obligations before, he was obsessed now. Hours upon hours were spent in the castle library, engrossing himself in every book his tutors could recommend. Although he would never admit it, his intense combat training often left his feet bruised and sore. His instructors were not blind to his wincing, however, and they commanded him to return to his room for rest. 

His dedication did not go unnoticed, and his cousin Mila teasingly called him the “golden boy” of Küyik. However, the nickname stuck, and thus Prince Otabek quickly became known as the Golden Prince. He flinched every time someone called him that. He knew it was selfish to pretend that he was effortlessly a perfect prince, when really he was committed only in order to emotionally distance himself from the very kingdom that praised him, but he also knew it was best to keep his reasons private. 

Despite warnings from his few friends, Otabek found himself spending more time around the forest. The serene trees provided more comfort than the dim halls of the castles, and he began to make a habit of walking through the woods alone.

One day after Otabek and his mother had yet another heated argument, this time over the treatment of prisoners, he escaped into the forest and stumbled upon a small meadow. Before long, he was spending more time in the forest than he was in the castle. Always alone but never lonely, the soft bird calls and the warmth of the sun never failed to fill him with tranquility. His friends always knew where to find him in his downtime, although no one but Mila dared to venture into the woods after him—and that day it was Mila who startled him out of his thoughts.

“Honestly, Beka, I’ll never understand why you spend so much time here.” She said, sighing as she took a seat next to him on the warm rock.

He tilted his head back toward the sun and closed his eyes. “It’s nice.”

He could feel her rolling her eyes.

“Whatever, little cousin,” she huffed. “Aunt Dariga sent me out here to fetch you. The King and Queen of Hasetsu have almost arrived.”

Otabek opened his eyes and looked at Mila. Her arms were crossed. “What has my mother done today?” Mila only called the Queen ‘Aunt Dariga’ when she was particularly annoyed, although never to her face. 

“Nothing in particular. She’s just extra irritating today.”

Otabek offered Mila a small smile. Their mutual dislike of the Queen was one of the many reasons they got along.

“We’d better get back, then. Before she becomes even more insufferable,” He replied.

They stood up and Mila offered an arm to Otabek, who took it without hesitation.

Mila stepped over the rock they had been sitting on. 

“Victor’s waiting for us in the courtyard. He’s also being insufferable because he’s overly excited about the Katsuki family’s arrival. He’s such a social butterfly.”

Otabek let out a hushed laugh, but didn’t say anything more.

Another thing Otabek appreciated about Mila was that she respected his need for space. If he was vague about something, she never pressed him for information. Unless it was important, she rarely intruded upon his meadow. She teased him frequently, but Otabek didn’t mind. She was one of the few who didn’t expect to have Otabek’s unconditional trust just because they were family. She had earned it over the years, and it was obvious through her consistent support that she didn’t take it for granted. 

Silence between them was common, but comfortable, and Otabek especially appreciated this as they walked through the forest. If there was a noise besides the crunch of leaves under his boots, he felt as if he was disturbing something sacred; sometimes he thought that the forest appreciated his silence too.

They had crossed the border of the forest into the field beyond it when Mila broke the silence: “Has anyone told you why the Katsuki family is here?”

Otabek shook his head, gazing at the town before them. The evening light cast a soft golden glow over the city, but the tall, somber castle threw an ominous shadow onto the buildings in front of it.

“Do you?” he asked.

“Damn, no. Why would I?” There was a bitter edge to her voice, but when Otabek looked at her, she was smiling. 

“Too bad you couldn’t have been useful for once.” She shoved him gently, their arms still linked, and he cracked a smile.

They made their way to the castle courtyard slowly, nodding to those who bowed their respect to the Prince and Princess. They were almost to the castle gate when they heard quick footsteps on the cobblestone behind them.

“Hey, guys! Wait up!” 

Otabek and Mila turned, and neither could stop themselves from grinning when they saw the beaming face of Phichit Chulanont.

“Phichit,” Mila laughed and caught him in a brief hug. “What brings you here?”

Phichit held up a small package.

“The Queen had my father make these—I think they’re handkerchiefs—as gifts for the Katsuki family. Anyway, I saw them on their way here. That’s why I was running.”

“We’d better hurry, then.” Mila said, and Otabek nodded before the trio slipped into the castle courtyard.

* * *

The arrival of the Katsuki family was not a small affair.

The Queen was there, of course, accompanied by her few advisors. Lords and ladies were attended by handmaidens and servants. Victor’s parents, the Duke and Duchess Nikiforov, and Mila’s father, Duke Babicheva, stood alongside the Queen. Their children—along with Phichit—occupied the space behind them; Otabek was at his mother’s side. 

He adjusted his crown. 

“Mother, what is the Katsuki family—”

Otabek was interrupted by the castle gates swinging open.

A carriage entered, pulled by two large black horses, and surrounded by guards. It was followed by a few servants carrying luggage, and a boy bearing the flag of the Katsuki house.

The procession came to a stop in front of the Queen, and the carriage door opened. Out stepped who Otabek figured must be the King and Queen, although they were dressed in simple red and gold cloth, lacking any of the elaborate accessories associated with royal garments. 

“Your Highness.” The couple bowed to Otabek and his mother, the King kissing her hand.

“King Toshiya, Queen Hiroko.” Queen Altyn smiled, and Otabek was surprised to see that it reached her eyes. “It’s been years.”

“Yes, since—the funeral, was it?” Queen Hiroko asked. “Otabek, you’ve grown into quite a prince.”

Otabek met her eyes. Under most circumstances, he might have been put off by her forwardness, but her face shone with such sincere kindness that he found himself smiling at her. 

“Thank you, Your Highness.” he replied, nodding his head slightly.

She laughed lightly. “Please, call me Hiroko.”

Otabek’s eyes widened slightly. Even his own mother didn’t allow him to call her ‘mother’ in the presence of others. “Yes, your—Hiroko.”

The King leaned toward Otabek, his eyes twinkling. “call me Toshiya.”

He shook Toshiya’s hand, deciding that he liked the Katsuki family.

As the Queen and King turned back to his mother, Otabek heard an awed gasp behind him. He frowned and looked over his shoulder to see Victor covering his mouth with both hands, eyes wide, while Mila and Phichit snickered.

“What—?”

“Ah, finally!” Toshiya interrupted Otabek’s question, and he looked forward again, only to see a boy stepping out of the plain carriage. He had black hair that had been slicked back at one point, but some strands were displaced and falling against his forehead. 

“This is Prince Yuuri, our wonderful son.”

When he shook Yuuri’s hand, he couldn’t help but notice that it was trembling slightly, and Otabek held on for a moment longer than necessary. 

“Welcome to Küyik,” Otabek offered him a warm smile and squeezed his hand.

Yuuri smiled appreciatively in return and bowed his head. “T-thank you, Your Highness.”

As the rest of the crowd greeted the Katsuki family, Otabek joined Victor, Mila, and Phichit.

“He’s breathtaking,” were the first words out of Victor’s mouth, and he craned his neck to look behind Otabek.

Mila rolled her eyes. “Vitya, stop that. He’s going to think you’re a creep.”

“I’m sure you’ll get a chance to talk to him at the reception tonight.” Phichit chirped.

“You’re right, but that’s such a long time to wait,” Victor groaned and put his forehead on Otabek’s shoulder.

“It’s in a few hours. Speaking of which, I need to get back to my father’s shop. See you guys tonight!” Phichit dashed from the courtyard with a wave.

“It’s a mystery how that boy has so much energy.” Mila said in disbelief, and they watched as Phichit disappeared through the grand castle gate.

“Mila, did you ever find out why exactly the Katsuki family is here?” Otabek asked abruptly, nudging Victor from his shoulder.

Her brow furrowed and she shrugged.

“You heard Queen Hiroko. They haven’t come here in what? Thirteen years? It could just be for a visit, but I doubt it. I’m sure we’ll find out soon enough.” Victor said.

“Yeah, I guess.” Mila replied.

“Yeah, now, I don’t know about you two, but I’m going to make myself look presentable for the reception tonight.” Victor didn’t wait for a reply before marching toward the castle.

“He’s so annoying when he likes someone.” Mila said, and Otabek grunted in agreement. 

They made their way across the courtyard, dodging the crowd that had yet to dissolve. The royal families had long since entered the castle, but servants were scurrying about, sorting through the Katsuki’s belongings. 

Mila skipped over one of the suitcases that was left unattended on the ground. Otabek followed suit, but his boot caught on the edge of the case. He was forced to jump backwards in order to save himself from tripping, but instead he fell into someone behind him. 

“Shit! Watch where you’re going.” The boy’s voice had a familiar edge to it that made Otabek shiver.

The boy had caught Otabek and was holding him up by his arms. He raised his head, but when he met the boy’s glare, he froze. The sneer immediately disappeared from the boy’s face and something glinted in his bright green eyes. The pale wisps of hair that framed his face momentarily enchanted Otabek.

Otabek didn’t notice that his weight was on the boy until he shoved Otabek back, forcing him to stand on his own. 

The boy leaned forward, mouth opening slightly as if to whisper something, but he clenched his teeth together at the last moment and stalked away into the crowd. 

“What’s with that kid?” Mila asked, her eyes narrowing as she looked in the direction that he had disappeared. 

Otabek’s eyes were wide, his mouth open, mirroring the boy’s expression from only a moment before.  _ Who is that kid? _ would be a more appropriate question, and Otabek thought that he must have arrived with the Katsuki family.

“Otabek. Are you okay?” Mila’s voice was uncharacteristically soft, and when Otabek looked at her she was frowning.

“Yeah,” Otabek gave her a small reassuring smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “I’m alright.”

* * *

The banquet stretched across the Great Hall, and the silver and flowers that adorned the tables flickered gently in the candlelight. Otabek sat against the wall, at the Queen’s table, although the supposed formality of the event was currently being ignored. Royalty sat at the head of the table, but the remainder of the room was beginning to meld together; it was no longer obvious that the lords had been seated at one table and wealthy merchants at another. This included King Toshiya, who was animatedly talking to a trader, probably about the intricacies of transactions between kingdoms. Otabek was crammed between his mother and Yuuri, with Mila’s chair jammed beside Yuuri’s. They swiftly realized the table was not meant to seat two families, and the Queen allowed Mila, Otabek, and Yuuri to mingle with the masses before resuming her engrossing conversation with Queen Hiroko. 

Two tables away, Victor was pushing food around his plate with a dejected look on his face.

Mila laughed and grabbed Yuuri’s arm. 

“What do you think of Earl Victor Nikiforov?” She giggled in his ear.

“Um. He’s fine, I guess.” Yuuri’s ears went red. “I mean, uh, he has nice hair?”

“Mila, leave him alone.” Otabek brushed her fingers from Yuuri’s arm and replaced them with his own, leading him away from her. He noticed that despite the rather dull orchestra, some people were beginning to dance in the part of the hall that wasn’t occupied by tables, and his back straightened.

“Yuuri,” Otabek said and outstretched his arm. “Would you like to dance?”

Yuuri froze, and for a nervous second Otabek thought he might refuse, but Yuuri took his hand.

“Okay.”

Otabek led him to the mass of people who were now dancing and turned so that they were facing each other, holding his arms out as an invitation. Yuuri looked at the floor and took Otabek’s hand as if it were made of crystal like the goblets on the tables, but Otabek clasped them together tightly in response. He placed his hand on Yuuri’s back and pulled him closer, and they began to step in time with the music.

“I know Mila can be overwhelming,” Otabek said. “She jokes around a lot. I can talk to her if it bothers you.”

Yuuri smiled. “No, it’s okay. Her question about Earl Nikiforov surprised me, but it doesn’t bother me.”

“As long as you’re sure.” Otabek returned his smile, and they continued to sway comfortably to the soft sounds of the orchestra.

“Actually, about Victor...” Yuuri said, looking at the floor again. 

Otabek began to reply but stopped abruptly when he saw Victor approaching them, Mila tugging on the sleeve of his tunic, but Victor looked determined.

“Yuuri,” Otabek nodded over Yuuri’s shoulder. Yuuri turned around, eyes widening when he saw the silver-crowned regal disaster marching towards them. 

Otabek pivoted, shielding Yuuri from Victor’s line of sight. He ignored Victor, instead looking past him at Mila, who was still pulling on his arm. 

“Mila, what is he doing?” 

Mila shrugged and looked up at Victor’s face, frowning. Her hand fell from Victor’s arm as he took a step forward, and Otabek raised his eyebrows when Yuuri stepped in front of him. 

“Duke Victor Nikiforov,” Yuuri said simply, and in a show of confidence he offered his hand so that Victor could kiss it.

“Prince Yuuri Katsuki.” Victor’s eyes glittered. He kissed the back of Yuuri’s hand gently, but instead of releasing it, he pulled Yuuri closer so that he could rest one hand on Yuuri’s waist.

“It’s nice to meet you.” Yuuri said without missing a beat, his voice airy. 

Otabek threw Mila a look that said  _ what is happening? _ but Mila shook her head in a way that decisively conveyed  _ we’ll talk about it later. _

“I’m sorry, Otabek, I’m going to have to steal your dance partner.” Victor smiled at him, and Otabek knew that he was certainly  _ not _ sorry, nor was he stealing Yuuri, because one look at Yuuri’s flushed face told Otabek that Yuuri was overjoyed to dance with Victor.   
Otabek turned away from them with a shake of his head and a small smile, and Mila joined him as he walked across the great hall.

Before they could get far, however, the mournful orchestra and zealous crowd were silenced as Queen Atlyn knocked a silver spoon against her goblet.

“My lords and ladies,” the Queen said, “you are probably wondering what the purpose of the Katsuki family’s visit is, and I have good news for all of you.” Beside her, Queen Hiroko straightened in her chair and looked ahead unblinkingly.

Mila and Otabek shared a glance of confusion.

“It is my pleasure to announce the betrothal of my son, Prince Otabek Altyn of Küyik, and Prince Yuuri Katsuki of Hasetsu.” 

The hall erupted into applause, but Otabek was frozen, and it wasn’t until Mila touched his arm that he remembered the entirety of Küyik would soon be looking for him—for his response. No, Otabek realized, they probably thought he already knew about this.

Wait.

Otabek turned on his heel, but stopped when he saw Yuuri’s eyes fixed on him. Otabek’s gaze flickered down to where Yuuri was clutching Victor’s shirt, and Yuuri abruptly let go, stepping away from him.

“Yuuri.” Otabek’s voice was barely audible over the delight of the great hall.

The surprise was fresh on Yuuri’s face. “Did you know?”

“Of course not.” The cheering of the crowd began to subside, forcing him to lower his voice. He caught Yuuri’s eye, urging him to believe his sincerity. “I promise, Yuuri, I’m just as surprised as you are.”

Yuuri took a deep and visibly shaky breath.

“Okay.” 

“Otabek and Yuuri,” the Queen said excitedly. “Please, come here so that we can congratulate you!” Otabek thought that she must have had too much wine.

They stood for a moment, sharing skeptical glances before Victor and Mila nodded solemnly. 

For the third time that day, Otabek outstretched his arm to Yuuri, but for the first time, Yuuri accepted his invitation without any visible hesitation. They walked to the front of the hall unhurriedly, but Otabek could sense Yuuri’s anxiety in the way his breaths came out in short gasps. 

As they stood before the banquet, crowd bowing, Otabek saw that Mila and Victor’s arms were linked. He also noted that Victor looked somewhat heartbroken. Phichit was standing on the opposite side of the hall beaming, and Otabek wished he could return his smile wholeheartedly. He did smile, though, as this was a political union, and he and Yuuri both knew that it would be almost impossible for them to reject the situation. Not without horrible backlash, at least. Actually, Otabek realized, that was most likely why his mother hadn’t discussed it with him: so that he couldn’t object. He almost scoffed, but remembered where he was, instead scanning the banquet crowd for more familiar faces. There was Toshiya, looking proudly at his son, Victor’s parents, Mila’s father, various lords and ladies that he had known his entire life, but whose names he never bothered to commit to memory, servants standing at the back of the room, waiting to attend to those in need, and—

Otabek’s eyes froze on a slender blonde boy who was leaning carelessly against the doorway at the end of the hall. He recognized him as the boy who had caught him earlier that day. Otabek noticed that his palms were sweating, but he didn’t dare wipe them on his tunic in front of the banquet. He rested his eyes on the boy, and the boy glared back at him before pushing off the wall and gliding out the door, reminding Otabek of the doe he had seen flying through the forest the morning before.

Otabek felt the impulse to follow him, to talk to him, to take him to his meadow where no one could find them.

Instead Yuuri gripped his hand uneasily, and Otabek looked at him with an uncertain smile on his lips, but his mind was exactly nine minutes away in the dream of a meadow that would never unfold.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm so sorry this took so long and i'll try to get the next chapter up as soon as i can but no promises bc i procrastinate a lot  
> anyways thank u for reading<3


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